


Coffee and Contemplation

by retrovertigo (ellameno)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Character, Comfort/Angst, Family Issues, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Hermann is the weird uncle war vet elder queer of the Shatterdome and you can't tell me otherwise, Identity Issues, Mentors, Minor Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Pre-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Pride, Queer Gen, Queer Themes, Relationship Advice, vague allusions to Vanessa and Karla being Big Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-27 19:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15031628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellameno/pseuds/retrovertigo
Summary: When a cadet or officer is in crisis, they know Dr. Gottlieb's office serves the best advice and brew in the 'Dome.





	Coffee and Contemplation

**Author's Note:**

> Happy pride! This takes place a week before Uprising, it's based on a tweet I made, and a bit headcanon heavy so bear with me.  
> Unofficial prequel to my _other_ PRU fic.

        “Dr. Gottlieb?” she greeted after rapping against the door-frame.

        Hermann spun around, glasses slightly off-kilter, then beamed once recognizing her. “ _Officer_ _Reyes,_ good afternoon.” His hair was somewhat mussed after running his hands through it in frenzied contemplation.

        “It's _Jules_ , sir. I've told you a thousand times,” she laughed.

        “Yes, well, you must tell me again as it does not seem to take.” He quickly swept some food wrappings and orange peels into the bin. “I do apologize, my office is a fright, I’m sure.”

        “It's always comfortably cluttered.”

        “I've been a bit more scattered while prepping for everything, so...”

        She winced a little as he continued tidying. “Is this a bad time?”

        “No, no, not at all,” he said while waving a hand. “If callers were undesired, I'd have the door shut — _you know,_ simply _having_ a door is such a novelty, it's been a decade and still I...” He trailed off, not liking the bittersweet direction his tangent was headed. He turned to her sharply. “But, Ms Reyes — _Jules, sorry_ — I suspect this is a visit of pleasure rather than business, yes?”

        “Yeah. I need a boost, and an ear. I've been losing sleep.” She closed the door, seeking confidentiality.

        “What about?” He motioned to the desk chair.

        “Personal life,” she said as she slumped into it.

        “Ah. Yes of course.” Hermann fiddled with his electric kettle.

        “I know it's small potatoes but —”

        “I'll tell you, Ms Jules, even when you're staring down world annihilation, personal matters remain at the forefront of one's mind.” He turned to give her an empathetic look. “So I understand. And you’re just in time; I’ve started a coffee already.”

        “OK. Well... Don’t judge me for what I’m about to say.”

        “This is a zone devoid of judgement.” He went back to the counter.

        “So. Every time I date, I feel like... no matter how into them I am, I’m always looking for the next person I’m gonna be with. Not that I’m sizing them up or that there’s anything wrong with them but it just... It doesn’t feel like enough. And I worry I’m making a mistake by being with them. It distracts me from the relationship. They can tell that I’m just this anxious mess, but I can’t tell them why, and it’s easier to just break up.”

        “I see. Second guessing yourself is, unfortunately, a large aspect of relationships. Not understanding yourself can contribute to that doubt.”

        “I think I’m trying _not_ to understand myself, which is... the problem.”

        Hermann sighed. “Yes. Coming to grips with identity can be... harrowing. But rest assured, dear Jules, the other side is a much better place. Even when you are utterly alone, at least you have your truth.”

        Jules nodded slowly, her fingernails tapping against the metal armrests. “If I tell you my suspicion,” she began with caution. “Will you promise to keep it between us?”

        “Come, now, what have I done to give you the impression that I’m a narc?”

        Jules giggled. “Where'd you learn that one?”

        “I suppose I picked it up from a coworker once upon a time,” Hermann said with a tinge of melancholy hidden behind a smirk.

        She flashed an apologetic smile and dipped her head back a bit. “I think... I think I’m one of those polygamists.”

        “Polyamorous?”

        Jules looked at him with surprise. “Yes, that’s the word.”

        “I have many people dear to me who are the same. Perhaps it was a bit touchy in the twenty-twenties, but it is a decidedly different time already.”

        “My parents are... very religious,” she said with resignation.

        “ _Ah._ Right. I’m so old that sometimes I forget that parental approval is a concept.”

        “So... That’s why I’m terrified. I don't know how to explain that to them. I mean, if I’m right about this, is it better just to hide it?””

        “It is impossible to predict a parents reaction. I was ostracized for not picking the ‘right’ football team to cheer on,” he added, and she laughed.

        There was nervous silence from her, and Hermann understood she required something deeper than superficial guidance.

        He took a breath, and laid it all out.

        “My father was _also_ scandalised that I dated and married an immigrant woman of color, but changed his tune once he pictured her as my ‘trophy wife’. _Both equally offensive, yes,_ ” he added as she groaned. “My mother was a bit cold about it, as she wanted me to marry a German girl so I’d move back home after the war. I avoided them meeting her for the longest time, but my siblings adored her, and eventually my parents liked her too. Now... I didn’t divulge that we had an… _unconventional_ marriage,” he said deliberately and Jules perked up. “Or that I was questioning… facets about my identity. But I knew from testing the waters that they could only stomach so much. Then, once I separated from her, and my sister came out, the house made of straw and lies collapsed and neither of us are really speaking with our parents.”

        “That’s... not exactly reassuring,” she said, sinking into the chair more.

        “No. It’s not,” he bemoaned as he leaned against his cane with weary resignation. “But it’s the truth as I suffered it. _But_ I have good stories too. My ex’s highly conservative parents warmed up to her female companions. They support our co-parenting as they see how much we all love our daughter. They send me holiday cards and care packages on the regular. Very good decent people. But it was a process.”

        “I hope your parents _process_ it too.”

        “Yes. Well. Perhaps yours will be like... a very dear friend of mine’s.” Maybe it wasn’t his story to tell, but Jules was hanging on every word. And she needed to hear it. “When he... _came out_... his father just patted him on the head and said... ‘I hope I didn't do anything to make you feel like you couldn’t tell me. And I’m proud of you for being so brave’.”

        “That’s nice,” she said softly.

        “It was _something_ like that, I wasn’t _there_ ,” Hermann added quickly. “But it stuck with me, as it’s... something I wish my father could’ve told me at least once in my life. About anything.”

        As his eyes swept across the office he wondered what his parents would think of him in his disarray; his fervorous dedication, juggling roles, taking little time for things he once held so dear like a clean workspace. What would his father think, seeing his son still so loyal to the PPDC, though it had turned sharply away from Hermann’s ideals and into something Lars would’ve loved. But even now the man didn’t have the common decency to sign a birthday card.

        Though Hermann had present company, a localized fanbase, and could see figures bustling on the other side of the glass he felt… alone.

        The timer dinged, startling him from his thoughts. Hermann poured the coffee from the french press, then rifled through a cabinet. “Now you like cinnamon in your coffee, if memory serves.”

        “Yes, _please_.”

        He placed a cinnamon stick in the cup and swirled it. “And there you are.”

        “Thank you. God, I always feel so fancy when I'm here,” she said, noting the saucer. “Like I should hold out my pinky.”

        “Well, in a world of bunk rooms and shower tokens, we need a little break to feel like a human and not a number, don’t we?”

        “And you do it so well, Doctor.” He gave her a grateful smile. “And... maybe you're right, about my parents. It’s a 50/50 split, right?”

        “The universe is unknowable, but we must have faith. And we must live our best and truest lives, that is what I believe — _now-a-days,_ at least. But there was a time I was content to... give in to societal scrutiny.” He said, stirring his coffee. “Shield myself in the armor of convention and lie to myself just so I wouldn’t have to accept that I may disappoint my parents further. But all that will come later. Once you do some searching for who you are. Whether or not you share the happiness you find with the world at large or keep it in your heart as a tender secret is up to you. Because not everyone has to know you, but you should always know yourself”

        “That’s lovely. How many times have you given that speech?” she said with an affectionate simper.

        Hermann let out another laugh. “That’s confidential. But I think I’m getting better at it.”

        “You are, it… helps.”

        “I am glad to hear it,” he said before taking a sip of his own coffee, flavored with homemade citrus syrup. “Is that all you wished to get off your shoulders?”

        “Yeah. It got resolved… _a lot quicker_ than I made time for. Oops.”

        “Oh, no need to ‘oops’. I’m a shut-in estranged from everything I know and love; a chat is a luxury. Have you any more news of the outside world? Preferably of the frivolous and shallow variety.”

        Jules flashed a mischievous look. “Boy, do I.”

        “As my friend Commander Choi used to say: _dish_.”

        ---

        Jules handed him back the empty china cup and let out a centering exhale. “That was nice. I should gossip more often with you.”

        “I won’t look at that stairwell door the same way again, though luckily I much prefer the elevators,” he said raising his cane. They both chuckled. “But yes, it was… very nice. I needed to ‘get out of my own head’ for a moment, so to speak.”

        “Right… Mako Mori’s gonna be here. You worked with her?”

        “Yes.”

        “That’s so cool,” she moaned with envy. “Every girl in J-Tech has a mad crush on her.”

        Hermann laughed. “That’s precious. I think she’d revel in that.”

        “Really? She seems so…” She lifted her chin, “stoic.”

        “Oh, I shouldn’t reveal secrets,” Hermann said waving a hand. “But, know she was like a second sister to me. Once upon a time.”

        Jules nodded and then pursed her lips. “ _So_ , speaking of the war… are you... still on good terms with that Newt guy?” Hermann’s eyes locked on hers. “The one you saved the world with?”

        His face was blank for a moment. “Yes, why... why do you ask?”

        “You're here all the time, I... never see him visit.”

        “Well he's... He's quite busy.”

        She leaned forward slightly. “Doc, you're always around to lend an ear to me, to the cadets... if you ever need to talk about... anything.”

        He gave a half smile. He was appreciative, but it wasn’t a subject he wanted to touch. “Oh. I… I think I’m alright, but, that is a very kind offer.”

        There was a beat and Jules took another breath. “Can I... ask a really personal question? I guess it... relates to open relationships.”

        “Alright.” He straightened up in response.

        “You say your marriage was open, but there were... rumors that you left your wife for him.”

        Hermann blinked. “And... they were just that. Rumors.”

        Her gaze went to the floor with shame. “I’m sorry.”

        “No, no, don’t be.”

        “Did you _not_ live with him?”

        “Oh, he popped in from time to time. Always a place to 'crash’ as he’d say. This was before he had a steady job. During my marriage.”

        “I see. So.” She looked up with a bowed head. “Did the... polyamory thing not work out well?”

        Hermann took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter. “The reason my ex-wife and I split was very simple and mundane. We grew apart. You go five years without any sort of domesticity and you find out that you’ve become completely different people.”

        “I’m sure a decade is worse, huh?”

        Hermann’s shoulder lowered, as he knew his wall was crumbling to her. “It’s a lot,” he whispered.

        “My oldest sister and I don’t talk much… after… some _stuff_. Which I’ve told you about before. But, it’s getting better. And it’s… easier to pick up where you left off then you’d imagine.”

        Hermann smiled wearily. “Thank you, Jules. I will take comfort in that sentiment.” There was a pause. “I'm typically not this forthcoming, so... I hope all I’ve said stays in confidence as well.”

        “Of course.”

        “I just... I don't want you to make the mistakes I did, and carve off years of your happiness. We only get so much time. It… It isn’t worth it.”

        Jules nodded, then rose from her seat. “Well, after all this, I… I think I need a hug. What about you?”

        He sighed and imagined those five glorious years of professional companionship, and how he wished he’d savoured it while it was there.

        Hermann slowly opened his arms. “ _It’s been awhile._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Plugging [my main blog](http://television-for-dinner.tumblr.com/tagged/fic+stuff) and [my art/fanworks blog](http://tommytonebender.tumblr.com), cryptic message about checking my side bar, etcetera.


End file.
